Inescapable : The Hexborn Series Book 2

by Cara E Holt

  Drayce offers him a tight smile. “It will naturally not do any harm to his campaign.”

  “Indeed.” Placing his cup down, he returns his scrutiny back to me. “So, Elara we were thinking we would initiate you into the coven this weekend, if that would suit you?”

  I swallow and sit up straighter in my seat as I prepare to drop the bomb. “Your offer is very kind and really I appreciate you inviting me here, but I was raised as a Latimer and that is who I identify as. I mean no disrespect, but I feel no affinity to this coven, no connection.” I pause, wondering if I dare say what is on the tip of my tongue. “Besides, if the curse is true to its words, I will perish before my twenty-first birthday.”

  The high priest stares in stony silence at me for what feels like a long minute before he gives me a strained smile. “Yes, the curse. It has never failed in the past. Nor has the spell we placed on all male Bennett’s that stops them breeding any females.” He leans over and places his hand over mine. It is ice cold to the touch. “I suggest you take some time to think on our offer. We would welcome you with open arms here.”

  “And Drayce?” I ask, arching a brow.

  He adjusts the neck of his polo neck, seeming uncomfortable. “As your fiancé, we would welcome him.”

  “By the entire coven?” I ask, pushing him.

  He pauses before replying. “By most of the coven.”

  And there it is. I knew that they would not all accept him here, just as i was not accepted by all the Blacks. Would there ever be a place where both Black and I would be welcome together, without prejudice or resentment?

  “I would like to learn more about the coven history, whilst I am here. I feel it may help me make that connection.”

  He smiles, this time genuinely. “Why of course.” He stands up and gestures for us to follow him. “My brother Ozias, being the coven inscriber is best placed to tell you of our history. I should imagine we will find him in his office.”

  We follow him through the large mansion until we reach a door at the end of a dimly lit corridor. The high Priest raps on the door and the door open at the command of the man inside. Ozias is sitting at his desk, pouring over an open scroll. He looks up as we enter and using magic; he rolls the scroll up and sends it floating to a large chest that opens and it drops inside.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” he states, as he stands to his feet and brushes his wavy hair behind his ears. His eyes rove over me with avid interest.

  “Elara would like to learn more of her coven history,” the high priest tells him and he gestures for us to take seats.

  Ozias smiles delighted and clasps his hands together. “I would be delighted to help.” He looks over to his brother. “I’ll start with the original line and we’ll go from there.”

  The high priest nods in approval and then giving us both a polite smile, he leaves swiftly and quietly. Ozias looks at us like an excited kid in a toy shop.

  “Let’s begin shall we?” He flicks his finger, and a scroll floats down from one of the tops shelves. He turns it so it is facing us and using magic, the scroll opens out, revealing an ancient and delicate looking family tree. The vines and leaves that adorn each of the four edges, move and unfurl with magic.

  “This is the original line. Our coven dates back many centuries. Horatio Bennett was the founding father of our coven, born as a male witch, from the womb of our mother goddess and from the seed of the horned god. One of the original sons.”

  I lean forward in the seat and examine the intricate scroll and all the branches that stem from our original creators. My eyes scan the ancient paper until I find the name I am looking for.

  “Isn’t she the witch whose forbidden love caused the curse?” I ask, my finger pointing to my birth mother’s name on the scroll.

  Ozias nods with a tight frown. “Yes, she is the one that caused all these centuries of pain and misery.”

  “She had a sister?” I ask in surprise as I see the name Ursa beside my mother’s name.

  “She did. Her sister married into the De Meath coven.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “It seems like everyone is interbred in our world.”

  Ozias smiles. “Oh yes, us wiccans were very incestuous. I’m sure if you look at most of the power covens they are all related in some way or another.” He looks from me to Drayce. “I’m sure if you looked back through the Black family tree, you would find that you are fifth or sixth cousins removed.”

  I grimace. “That’s not something I ever want to look up.”

  Ozias walks over to one shelf in his office that is crammed full with books and pulls one out. He walks over to me and he offers me the book.

  “This is our family history, all here in this book. Take it. It is a spare copy.”

  I greedily reach out and take the book and clutch it to my chest. My thirst to know more about my blood coven suddenly seemed important to me. “Thank you, that is very kind of you.”

  Ozias nods and gives me an awkward smile. “You are my blood Elara.” Ozias looks at the clock on the wall. “I’m afraid I have an appointment I need to get to, but if you have any more questions just come and see me again.”

  We thank him for his time and make our way out of the main house and back through the grounds towards the cottage. As we walk down the path, Cael is walking from the opposite direction towards us. I shiver when his eyes meet mine. He made me nervous. If anyone had the power to figure out who and what I am, it was him.

  “Elara,” he greets, as he comes to a stop in front of us. His eyes search mine, as if he can see all my secrets.

  “Cael. We have just been with Ozias learning about family tree.”

  He nods, his eyes firmly fixated on me. “Yes, it will be interesting to see were you fit in amongst us.”

  I gulp and offer him a tight smile.

  Cael looks down towards the cottage. “How are you enjoying your stay in the cottage?”

  “The cottage is lovely. It is the kind of place I could see myself living in one day,” I tell him.

  “Yes, everyone finds the cottage very welcoming, which is interesting considering that it’s the very home that Morgana Bennett grew up in.” He sighs and pulls his gaze back to me before he continues. “It is hard to believe that the very woman who brought destruction to our coven could have inhabited such a beautiful house.”

  “Well, we should head back,” Drayce announces, placing an arm around my waist.

  I am still taking in the news that the house we have been staying in is the one my birth mother grew up in. Cael nods and briefly smiles at Drayce.

  “A lot of our Bennett females were good at keeping secrets. The trouble with secrets is they always come out in the end,” he says.

  I feel his intense eyes on me and I can’t bring myself to look up at him and meet his stare.

  As we move to walk past him, I do not see him reach out and grasp my hand in his. He takes a sharp intake of breath before his eyes glaze over, so we can see only the whites of his eyes.

  “The answers you seek are in the earth.”

  He takes another sharp breath before his eyes return to normal and he relaxes his tight grip on my hand allowing me to pull away.

  “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  As we walk away from him towards the cottage, I know without turning around that his shrewd eyes are on me, almost as if they are burning a hole in the back of my head.

  “Drayce, I think he knows,” I hiss as we hurry towards the cottage.

  Drayce shakes his head and squeezes my waist. “We don’t know that raven.”

  I shiver, feeling goose bumps along my arms. “I shouldn’t have come here. This was a mistake. I think we should leave early.”

  Drayce opens the cottage door and gently pulls me inside. He cups my face with one hand and nods. “I’ll make an excuse. We can tell them I am needed at home on an urgent family matter.”

  I chew on my lip. “I feel like nowhere is safe for me anymore. I feel like I a
m looking over my shoulder constantly, waiting for someone to reveal my secrets.” I am already weary with the lies and having to hide who I really am.

  He pulls me against his chest, offering me comfort. “I’ll keep you safe, raven. I will always protect you.”

  A VISITOR IN THE NIGHT

  That night I toss and turn in the bed. My mind struggles to switch off. I feel like I am on constant high alert, waiting for someone to bring my world to its knees. I must finally reach a point of exhaustion and fall asleep.

  “Elara.”

  I sit up alert in bed and touch my ear. I could have sworn I felt someone’s breath against my skin.

  “Elara, come.”

  My heart beats ten to the dozen as I realise I am fully awake and there is a voice calling my name. I look to my side at Drayce who is sleeping deeply and I quietly climb out of the bed.

  “Come, daughter of mine.”

  I leave the bedroom, grabbing my dressing gown as I tip-toe out onto the landing. Nothing could prepare me for what I see. There at the end of the landing was a ghostly figure of a woman, floating at least a foot from above the ground. Her long dark hair floats around her and her rose-red lips smile warmly.

  “Come daughter, follow me.” She beckons me with her hand and then turns and floats off down the stairs.

  I hesitate at first, but then my curiosity gets the better of me and quickly and quietly I tip-toe down the stairs. I look around me and I cannot see her anywhere and I think I have imagined the entire thing, when a blast of chilly air moves past me and I see that the back door of the cottage is open.

  With nothing on my feet, I make my way outside. The ghostly figure hovers there, waiting for me. She smiles and points to a large willow tree over in the corner of the garden. Unsure what she wants from me, I walk down to the tree and look around it. There is nothing of any interest and I look back over to her and shake my head.

  “I don’t understand.”

  She floats towards me, a vision of ethereal beauty, and she stops beside me and whispers in my ear.

  “The answers you seek are buried.” She again points to the base of the tree.

  “There’s something buried here?” I ask, turning back from the tree to find her gone. I am alone in the deep of the night. I kneel in front of the trunk of the tree and bite into my wrist, drawing blood and place my hands on the cold damp earth.

  “Hic tamen non hic estendo,” I whisper quietly into the night.

  The earth under my hands vibrates and moves. I open my eyes and watch as the earth at the base of the willow tree parts. There hidden amongst the black soil is a book. The small roots that wrap around it and hold it in place uncoil and wither and it allows me to reach in and lift the book free. I turn it over, examining it in my hand. It was old, of that there was no doubt. The cover was leather, dark green and edged in gold. Tentatively I open the cover and the inside is blank, and as I flick through it, I find the same of every other page. She could have spelled the diary to hide its contents. My wrist, although it has stopped dripping with blood, is still healing. I press my wrist against the first page and closing my eyes whisper the spell.

  “Veritas se revelet.”

  Before my eyes, words written in black ink appear on the page and as I flick through the book more words reveal themselves.

  “The diary of Morgana Bennett,” I read aloud the words written on the first page. My breathing is rapid as I realise what is in my hands. This was my birth mother’s personal diary. This could hold all the answers I was looking for. I clutch the book to my chest and anxiously look around me. The garden is sheltered and backed on to the woods of the coven grounds, so there was no way anyone could have seen me here. The ground from where I had pulled the diary from knots and weaves itself back together until there is no sign that I ever disturbed the earth. I rush inside and light the fire in the lounge with my magic and curl up in the armchair and with much excitement and anticipation I turn to the second page.

  They announced our engagement this evening. I stood beside him with both our families present and smiled and pretended that it thrilled me, the prospect of this union. The truth is, I hate Carsten Black. He is cold and unfeeling and I know that bound to him I shall experience a life of emptiness. Is it wrong that I want to spend my life with someone I love with all my heart? Everything is always about strengthening the power of the coven and joining the elite families together. I am tired of being a puppet in this world.

  I flick through some more pages, briefly scanning the first few lines, until I find what I had not dared to believe I would.

  I sneaked out tonight and went to a dance in the neighbouring village. We were not supposed to mix with mortals for fear of our magic being revealed, but I just wanted to have a night where I could forget my troubles. As soon as I saw him across the room, my heart felt like it had stopped and that when it restarted, it beat only for him. When our eyes met, I felt like he could see right into my soul. An invisible connection formed between us, across that busy room. He smiled at me and I smiled back and I knew there and then that I had found my true love.

  I hurriedly flick forward a few pages.

  I am tired of these snatched moments we share. I want to wake up beside him each morning, to lie on his chest at night and fall asleep in the safety of his arms. We made love for the first time tonight, in the woods right by my coven grounds. He lay me down on a bed of daisies and made me his. There is no going backwards now, I am his, and he is mine and we have to find a way to be together. He whispers ideas of running away into my ears, of us finding somewhere where we can hide away and live out our lives happy and in love. Can I dare to dream?

  I flick forward a few more pages.

  Our love has created a life. His child grows inside my belly. I will cherish this gift as I cherish him. I lie in bed at night and wonder if the baby will have his eyes or mine. Will it have his talent for words or my singing voice? He or she isn’t even born yet, but I already love them with all my heart and soul. How can I not? For this baby is a part of him. A result of the perfect love we share. We no longer have the gift of time to make our plans. I can hide it for now, but soon there will be no hiding my growing stomach.

  “Elara.” A sleepy voice belonging to Drayce pulls me from my mother’s words. He leans in the doorway rubbing his eyes, his hair all mussed up and delicious. “What are you doing down here?”

  I look up at him and smile, still reeling from what I have discovered and still processing that I have the written words of my birth mother here in my hands.

  “I have my mother’s diary. It is all here in her own words. Their whole story.”

  Drayce blinks in shock and he comes over to me and kneels beside my chair to look at the pages held in my hands.

  “How? Where did you find it?”

  I shake my head, still in awe of what has happened tonight. “She was here, Drayce. She showed me where to find it. She hid it in the garden.”

  Drayce looks puzzled as he leans over and looks at the open page. “It’s blank raven, there is nothing there.”

  In confusion I look from him to the book. “You can’t see the words written here?”

  He shakes his head. “She must have spelled it to only reveal itself to you or one of its own bloodlines.”

  I touch the words written on the page with my fingers. “She loved me, Drayce. She wanted me.”

  Drayce smiles softly and places his hand over mine. “I have no doubt that she did. She was in love with your father. Why would she not want a child that was a product of that love?”

  I clutch the diary to my chest. This was a chance to connect with my birth mother, to get to know her.

  “Come on, let’s go back to bed.” Drayce holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet and we head back upstairs.

  “What the hell!” Drayce grumbles as he rolls over and stirs awake at the same time I do. There is a loud banging on the cottage door. Drayce sleepily stumbles to his feet and throws on a pair of jogge
rs and heads down the stairs.

  I sit up straight in bed as I hear the high priest’s voice. I quickly float my dressing gown over to me and wrap myself in it and pad downstairs.

  “Thank you for letting us know,” Drayce says. His face is grave and pale.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, looking from the high priest to Drayce.

  “There was another attack last night. They have attacked one of our own,” The high priest informs us. His face is ashen with grief.

  “Oh god!” I exclaim, a heavy feeling settling in my tummy.

  He clasps his hands together and clears his throat. “I’m afraid I will have to ask you both to leave. It has not gone unnoticed that the attacks seem to take place wherever the two of you are.”

  I flinch, as if he has physically slapped me.

  “Now wait a minute-” Drayce points a finger, his jaw clenched in anger.

  “We will pack now,” I say, interrupting Drayce. “I have to ask, who was it and where were they found?”

  “We found him just outside our grounds. It was my nephew Dorian. He was thirteen.”

  “Have they drained him?” I ask.

  The high priest gulps and nods in answer. “I must go, my coven needs me.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt out as he turns to leave. “I had nothing to do with this, but I understand how it looks.”

  The high priest nods, a deep frown wrinkling his brow. “You were never meant to exist, you are cursed and often those who are cursed bring death and ill luck to those they come into contact with.”

  “Okay. You need to leave,” Drayce commands, his voice laced with anger.

  The high priest glares at Drayce, and without a backward glance he stalks out of the cottage. Drayce slams the door shut with his magic and mutters about him being a bastard under his breath. He stalks over to me and cups my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze.

  “This is not your fault raven.”